| To drain the blood | |
| From his face | |
| This black stinking oil | |
| And scorch the prints | |
| Of everything | |
| On these cold hands | |
| To [...] the dead | |
| From the jaws | |
| Of this treacherous call | |
| Ashes of the earth | |
| And the mouth | |
| To [...] | |
| [...] his heart | |
| To cut off everything | |
| That ever touched the [...] | |
| All these burn | |
| A burning offering | |
| To you, God | |
| That would [...] |